Zoodystopia - City of Shadows and Rot
by Emperor Vladislav
Summary: A young doe from Bunnyburrow joins the ZPD, hoping to make the world better. But instead of fighting crime and keeping order and peace, the police are more busy fighting endless paperwork and keeping a retirement fund of dubious origins. As a red fox P.I. would show her, the capital was not what it seemed. Includes a stretched-out mystery and a lot of pointless worldbuilding.
1. Welcome to Zootopia City

**Here's a thing. Recently I've had this idea, and since I have the means to write it down, it's going here. It will probably become another one of my sories that updates infrequently, despite the fact that I already have it almost completely thought out to the end. If you don't like it, well, that's not my problem.**

 **Inculdes a dystpic hell of a corrupt country, trying to hold on to its former glory, a massive conspiracy against its people, machinations of a power-hungry old mammal who seeks revenge against society, action, romance, humour, humourous action. Featuring, a wide variety of characters, from a dolphin businessmammal, a movie star turned crime lord named Mickey 'the Mouse', rats and rams, a cynical private investigator called Nick Wilde, and even a few appearances from sir Attenborough.**

 **Zootopia is owned by the folks at Disney. It would have been much better were it owned by me (or it wouldn't have come out at all, because I'm lazy).**

* * *

" _Tensions rise within the Administrative Regions of Blackwood, Richlake and the Blue Hills as local nationalist terrorists release a statement that they've formed a coalition that will fight together, for the sovreignty of their respective lands. In an official response, the chancellor points out that the independence referenda held in these Regions were unconstitutional and urges the mammals residing in the crisis-stricken regions to stay calm and to not let fear rule them. The military has also declared to be sending aditional troops to combat the 'threat to our stability'. More on the terrorist activity in the West in the 1 pm news. You are listening to ./)Radio One./)!"_

A generic pop song started playing over the speakers, filling the Bunnyburrow Central Station with an upbeat tune, in a stark contrast to its appearance. While it was indeed colourful and inviting, looking almost like a toy train station, the presence of beggars, bunnies, in a vast majority, numbering above a hundred, gave it a less cheerful look. Bunnyburrow was suffering from severe overpopulation, and those that could afford it, left, mostly migrating to the capital.

One such bunny was a young doe who stood at the centre of Platform 1. Smiling, the grey-furred female held onto her small suitcase, her violet eyes turned towards the South, waiting for her train to appear. Yes, the bunny in her twenties, like many others, was moving to Zootopia City, the massive capital of the Grand Republic of Zootopia. However, unlike the others, who left their home region with no clear goal other than a chance at a better life, this female had her purpose. Her dream, pulling her towards the metropolis.

"He-hey! Jude the dude!"

The young doe turned to see her parents, standing behind her, along with all of her siblings and some of the other members of her clan. Together, the group numbered above a hundred - which was still less than half of her family, mind you - and they've all come to see her off. Theirs was a family of respectably reasonable rabbits, who rarely ventured far beyond the borders of the administrative region of Bunnyburrow, after all, so seeing one of them move was a rare occurence.

"So, you're... you're... sure you won't change your mind, Judy?" her father spoke again.

The young doe, Judy, sighed. "Dad, we've been through this, when I left for the Academy. And when I graduated. Actually, we've had this conversation many, many times. So, I'll just skip it and say this. I'll. Be. Fine."

"Your father is just a little worried, Judy," her mother stated.

"Yeah, a little. I mean, this is the capital we're talking about. Zootopia City. I mean, every year, thousands of bunnies move there. And their families rarely hear from them again. It's just..."

"But I'll be staying with cousin Roger. We hear from him all the time, dad. And he's been there, what, six years already? He still calls home at least once a week. And he says you have nothing to worry about."

"Hear that, Stu? My brother's son says everything will be fine," her mother assured her father.

Stu sighed. "You always were more of a Turner than a Hopps. Always running out in the fields, or around the city streets of Kaerbannok. I knew from the moment you said you wanted to be a cop that this day would come. I tried to convince myself it wouldn't... oh dear, here come the waterworks!" The buck's eyes welled up with tears, his wife patting his paw to calm him down.

" _The high-speed train from Foxenrise, Deerbrooke, Goldfield and Empire Bay, bound for Zootopia City, now arriving on Platform 1. Please, stand behind the yellow line."_

"That's my train," Judy stated. Soon enough, the sleek bullet train rolled into the station, gradually slowing down to a halt. Doors, for mammals of all sizes, from the smallest to the tallest, opened up, and several passengers disembarked. Mostly bunnes and hares from the South, visiting relatives, but there were some non-lapine mammals, whose purpose of visit was to conduct business in Bunnyburrows capital of Kaerbannok and its surrounding arrea.

"Well, I'll be off then," the young doe said. She gave her parents a quick hug, Holding them close. "I love you guys!" And then, she bounced off towards the train. She could hear her parents, and the brothers and sisters who had come to see her off, saying their goodbyes, while the younger ones ran towards the train, waving. She waved back, even as the train's doors closed and started to leave the station.

" _This train is now departing from; Kaerbannok, Bunnyburrow; bound for; Fenrirsholm, Fenrirsheim; and Zootopia City, the Central Administrative Region."_

The bullet train accelerated, approaching the speed of sound as it travelled upon the magnetic rails. It left Bunnyburrow Central behind, speeding through the vast surrounding fields and townships. Despite being among the smallest Administrative Regions, Bunnyburrow had the third highest population count, tailing behind only Empire Bay City Region and the CAR.

Judy made her way to the uppermost part of the train car, which provided a panoramic view of the picturesque landscape it traveled through. Save for herself, a sleeping male beaver ( _castor fiber_ ) and an old poster advertising a 'scenic entry route into Zootopia' ('See the city before you arrive at the station!' it read), the observation deck was empty. She pulled out her phone, put her earphones into her ears and played one of the pop singer Gazelle's older albums, made herself comfortable on the railing at the head of the train and admired the landscape, letting her mind wander.

For as long as she could remember, she had wanted to be a police officer. Well, not really. When she was very little (read: pre-school) she had wanted to be a superhero. But once she learned that superheroes weren't real, she decided for the next best thing: an officer of the law, who kept the Republic's Peace and put bad guys behind bars. And there was nothing that could dissuade her now.

As it turned out, severalt things made a good attempt though. When she first declared that her dream was to join the Zootopia Police Department, in a play which I will omit from this tale, for the reader has likely seen it a few times already and probably knows it by heart, her parents were not very thrilled (all the time throughout the play, her father had had his yep-this-is-going-into-my-cringe-compilation look as her recorded it on his camera). They attempted to dissuade her, telling her that she could always make the world a better place by becoming a farmer (which wasn't false - the Republic of Zootopia only satisfied only a little over third of its needs when it came to food, having to import the rest, due to the increasing urbanisation). But it wouldn't make her quit.

The next person to try to dissuade her was a fox by the name of Gideon Grey, a local tough guy whose insecurities had lead him to become a bully. By showing that he was bigger and stronger, he tried to insinuate she couldn't be a cop. As if that would work. It wouldn't make her quit.

The last, but certainly not least, obstacle in her way of becoming a police officer in Zootopia City, wasn't a person, but rather a simple formality: the height requirement for entering the Zootopia Police Academy. As a bunny, she was in the Small size cathegory, while the Academy only accepted mammals from Medium and above, as listed by the Republic's Size Cathegorisation of Terrestrial and Semi-Aquatic Mammals. To be fair, that last one did almost make her quit and settle for becoming a police officer in Bunnyburrow, but fortunately for her, the government's Mammal Inclusion Initiative was looking for a Small-class mammal to add into the ranks of the ZPD. The moment she heard about it she applied. Weeks later, she was visited by government officials, who congratulated her on being chosen, asked her to sign a few papers, and, by the next month, she was already attending the ZPA, with the next class of cadets.

The training was, in a word, brutal. Not only was it designed for mammals at least three times her size, the drill instructor, a female polar bear named Friedkin, wouldn't let her forget it. The young doe could have sworn that the bear was out to make her life a living hell. But even this, she endured, training harder than everyone else and (at one point, literally) using ther fellow cadets as stepping stones on her way to success - which did little to endear her in their eyes. Friedkin had warmed up to her in the end, though.

And so, she finished the academy - top of her class, actually. Due to her high scores, she was assigned to Precinct 1, which oversaw District 1 of Zootopia: the Concrete Jungle of the downtown one of the city's twelve districts, each of which had its own unique ecosystem. Here she was, on her way to the capital. She wondered what awaited her. What kinds of mammals would she meet? Would she get to see the marina, where the aquatic mammals of the Empire of Atlantis had their embassy? What was the Nocturnal District like, with its massive brutalist blocks which blotted out the Sun? How big was Little Rodentia, which boasted the highest population density? What was the Climate Control System like?

As if the gods wanted to let her know that they were listening to her thoughts, the moment the last question formed in her head, the sky darkened as the train was hit by a thunderstorm. They were now by the sea, already travelling through the Administrative Region of Fenrirsheim towards its coastal capital of Fenrirsholm. An anouncement was heard around the train, apologising and declaring that there would be a slight delay in the train's arrival times due to the unexpected weather conditions.

"Tch," the beaver, who had awakened due to the thunder, spat. "This storm over Fenrirsheim has been going for two weeks now. And they call it 'unexpected'? The ZTA, I tell ya..."

* * *

" _Final station: Zootopia City, the Central Administrative Region. Passangers be advised: You will be asked for your entry documents at the entry checkpoint. Thank you for travelling with the Zootopia Traffic Authority: travelling with you since 1862!"_

The train had come to a halt at the Central Train Station in District 2 (Savannah Central). Judy was still in a daze, ever since the massice capital city had come into her view, only minutes earlier. Enormous skyscrapers, reaching to the sky at the centre of a sea of buildings, divided into diverse neighbourhoods, from the snowy Tundratown to the green Rainforest District, had made an unforgettable impression on her.

She stepped upon the platform, observing her surroundings. Mammals of numerous species, from enormous elephants to tiny mice, were going about their business, disembarking or entering trains, walking carelessly with smartphones in hand or buying drinks at a local lemonade stand. The station itself was ornately decorated, built in a neo-renaissance style in the late 19th century, with the coats of arms of the original thirteen regions of the Republic painted on the walls.

True to the announcements words, though, a checkpoint stood at the exit from the platform. Five booths stood on the way out, with queues quickly forming in front of them. Without a moment to lose, the doe stepped into the one which seemed to be moving the fastest. As it turned out looks had been deceiving. For the next twenty minutes, she awaited for her turn.

"Next!" Finally, she stepped towards the booth

Behind the desk inside the booth sat a massive pink-skinned pig ( _sus domesticus_ ), wearing a black suit and tie. His black eyes gleamed critically behind a pair of silver-rimmed round glasses. Judy had to crane her neck to look up at him, for not only was he much bigger than her, but he also sat on a raised platform, which made him look even more menacing. His officious gaze, fixed directly on her from the moment she had entered his line of sight, made the doe feel as if he were scrutinising her very soul. He opened his mouth to speak, and Judy half expected him to scold her for that one time she had been late for school when she was ten.

"Papers, please!" he rumbled authoritatively, reaching towards her with an open hoof. Judy quickly gave him a thick stack of documents, containing the entry permit, proof of employment, residency documents and more, along with her personal identity card as well. When she had found out how many forms one had to fill in in order to even enter the capital, she thought it a silly joke. But now...

"Name and personal name(s)?"

"Hopps. Judith Laverne," she answered, keeping her smile.

"Species?"

"Sylvilagus floridanus, purebred."

"Father's personal name(s)? Mother's maiden name and personal name(s)?"

"Stuart Peregrim. Turner. Bonnie Lisbeth."

"Do any of your close relatives live abroad, or in the Administrative Regions of Blackwood, Richlake, or the Blue Hills?"

"No."

"What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Oh, I've come to make the world a better place! I'm starting work tomorrow as the first bunny police officer!" she tried to answer cheerfully, hoping to cut through the officious atmosphere.

The pig was not amused. "What will be the duration of your stay?"

"I'll be staying indefinitely. Maybe until retirement."

"... There is a problem with your documents. Your entry permit has not yet been validated."

Judy's heart skipped a beat. What the pig had said was completely ridiculous, for she had made sure that her documents were completely in order, but the way he had said it made her wonder if, perhaps, she had forgotten to fill in the form in full. "... Excuse me?"

"It says here, at the bottom, 'validated on Harmony Date 7. 5. 2061'. Today is 15. 5. 2016 HD," the swine stated.

"Oh, come on! That's obviously a typo!" she protested, frowning.

The pig's gaze went from her to her documents and back to her, considering what to do."... You've been selected for a random search. Please wait, while I contact-..."

"Hey! Judes!" a voice interrupted, coming from beyond the checkpoint.

Judy turned in the direction of the familiar voice, to see a grey male bunny, a bit taller and a lot fatter than her, approaching with a smile. He had put on quite a bit of weight since she last saw him, when he moved to Zootopia City six years ago, and his grey shirt and pants weren't the type of clothes he wore back in those days, but she would recognise those blue eyes and that wide smile anywhere. "... Roger?"

His eyes lit up as he ran the last few paces towards her. "Belenos! It is you! C'mere, li'l cousin!" Before she knew it, Judy was enveloped in one of her older cousin's signature bone-crushing hugs. The pig watched them quietly, his unamused expression unchanging, as they embraced. Finally, they separated, smiling. "By the gods, Judes! You've worked up some muscle at that academy of yours!"

"And you've put on some weight! Too many carrot roots in your diet? You know those things aren't good for your liver."

"But they are soooo good for my taste buds! Mmm..."

"Excuse me!" the border inspector piped in. "It's always a pleasure, mister Turner," he respectfully nodded at Roger. "Do you know this doe?"

The buck chuckled. "Do I? This here is my cousin Judy. She's come here to become the first bunny cop, she did!"

The pig hummed. "Perhaps you can help clear something up then? There's something wrong with her papers."

"Oh? What seems to be the problem?"

"It appears there is a problem with miss Hopps' entry permit. It says 'validated on 7. 5. 2061'. She claims it's a typo, but it makes the document invalid nonetheless. I can't let her through."

"Tell me, Schweinberger, what's the penalty for letting someone without the proper documents through?"

"If I get caught, one hundred Zootopian bucks."

"Then how about I give you two hundred bucks? And you, I don't know, look the other way?"

"... Welcome to Zootopia City, miss Hopps. Cause no trouble. Next!"

As soon as the two rabbits were out in the main hall of the train station, Judy addressed her cousin: "Alright, what was that!?"

"What was what?" Roger asked, confused.

"Did you just... bribe a government employee? In front of me, a newly minted police officer? I mean, his cause for denying me entry was ridiculous, but he was still doing his job, which is to prevent potential threats from entering the city!"

The buck chuckled. "Ah, I see what the problem is. See, Judes, I merely made a small contribution to his retirement fund. You got in, didn't you? And the only thing wrong with your documents was that typo. Besides, the purpose of having border control between the Administrative Regions is not to increase security, but to lower the unemployment rate."

"Roger, you know I can't let this slide! I may start work tomorrow, but I'm still a policemammal! I should report both of you!"

Her cousin sighed. "Judes, I think you'll find that, in this city, 'donations' are more common than you think."

The two stepped out of the train station, into the warm Pride Rock Square. Judy dropped the argument for the time being to admire the plaza.

"Anyway, welcome to Zootopia City! ninety-nine percent of the wealth, ninety-nine percent of the energy consumption - or just any resource in general, now that I think about it - and the highest crime rate in the country. Thirteen districts, each with a unique ecosystem and climate, maintained by water sprinklers, moisture collectors and giant cooling/heating devices that have caused more climate change than that meteorite that wiped out the dinosaurs. The place where 'anyone can be anything'... By Toutatis..."

His cousin was not listening, but rather admiring the view. Other than the train station, the square was surrounded by other neo-renaissance buildings, including the ZTA office building, the Museum of Transportation and the Kingdom of Pride Rock consulate. At the centre of the square, a great rock stood, a monument to the Pride Rock's royal government in exile. Behind the buildings on the other end of the plaza, skyscrapers rose to the heavens, dwarfing them like a giraffe dwarfed a mouse.

Roger chuckled at Judy's impressed daze. "Come on, let's get you to the apartment."

Her cousin led her to his car, which was parked nearby, despite the shortage of empty parking spaces which evidently plagued the area around the station. It was a silver Lagos Urban Gen6 S, a sleek, relatively new automobile marketed towards the upper middle class. It was the model designed for the Small-class mammals, so, since bunnies were among the smallest in their cathegory, it was quite spacious for the two lagomorphs.

They drove off, towards District 1. The roads were relatively empty, due to it being around three in the afternoon. Judy was just relegating her travelling experience to her cousin. "Oh, they promised a scenic entry route into the city, but when we got here, the train went straight to the station. What's up with that?"

"The scenic entry for the bullet train?" Roger wondered. "Yeah, it's been under maintenance for the last... what, seven, eight years? I did get to ride it when I came to Zootopia University to study law."

"Eight years!?"

"Yeah. Now it's pretty much just a financial black hole."

The car entered the downtown area, driving among the massive skyscrapers. Most of them were office buildings, but it was apparent that there were a few posh apartment buildings among them as well, just to their right. Between them, parks were packed, in their shadows, with playgrounds, paths and small fountains.

"So, where do you live? Here?" Judy asked.

Roger chuckled. "What, here?" he snorted. "I wish. This here on our right, this is Respublica Heights, the most expensive neighbourhood in - probably - the entire world. Not only do you have to be filthy rich to live here, you also need to be old money. Here, you have the manmals whose ancestors backed the founding of the Grand Republic in 1753. No way I'll ever live here!"

"Oh... But you must earn plenty of money, right?"

"Well, last year, I made around seventy-five grand ZB, so yes, plenty. It's a booming business here in Zootopia City for us lawyers."

They continued their jurney, entering St. Romulus the Viking Square. It was the political centre of the Grand Republic and the city, With the House of Parliament, Republic Council and Presidential Palace lining its northern edge, Zootopia City Hall and Regional Courthouse on the eastern edge, the House of the Ministries, the chancellor's office and the High Courthouse on the western edge, and, on the southern edge, the police station housing both Precinct 1 and the administration of the entire metropolitan police. The neo-classical buildings gave the square an awe-inspiring look, topped only by the ten-metre statue of the tundra wolf ( _canis lupus albus_ ) after whom the square was named.

Judy remembered her history lesson from primary school well. According to legend, Romulus and his crew were returning from their jurney of pillaging in the south, back to Farenderland in the north, a severe blizzard washed them ashore, at the mouth of the river Bigwater. The local tribe of beavers, led by chieftain Stumpchomp the Hospitable, took pitty on the freezing wolves and offered them shelter in their dam. As days passed, two more groups were given shelter from the blizzard: A caravan of reindeer trans-Wildland traders, led by the merchant Rudolf the Red Nosed, and the beavers' mortal enemies, the neighbouring tribe of otters, led by chief Otto the Humble. It is said that in the two weeks leading up to the winter solstice during which these mammals of different species had to share the same shelter, the four leaders became friends and decided to found the trade post which eventually grew into the city of Zootopia.

"That's where you'll be working, Judes!" Roger pointed out, nodding at the police station. "ZPD Headquarters and Precinct 1, both in the same building. Quite the sight, eh?"

"It is," Judy agreed. "I take it you've been here plenty of times?"

Her cousin chuckled. "I'm a lawyer. Of course I have! Someone needs to make sure those idiots who get taken in don't dig their graves any deeper." He sighed. "It hasn't exactly endeared me to the 'esteemed' officers of the ZPD though. A heads-up, Judes, lawyers and cops don't exactly mix."

"Sounds like you're not exactly fond of policemammals either," the doe commented, a bit surprised by her cousin's tone.

"Well..." he slowly spoke. "They're... They're not all bad..." They stopped at a red light on their way off the square. Roger took this opportunity to give his younger cousina pointed look. "Just a little warning. What you saw earlier, at the train station, with the border officer? Let's just say he's not the only government employee who's ready to look the other way for a donation to his retirement fund."

"What do you mean?"

"'Show, don't tell,' Judy. You'll understand what I mean tomorrow, when you start work. You'll see."

They drove for a while longer, entering a more affordable residential area. Dreary-coloured, badly maintained brick-built blocks of flats from the 1950s, which had been built to accomodate workers migrating from countries still recovering from the War, as well as the refugees fleeing from the Red Menace. Nowadays, they accomodated a vast array of mammals, from simple workers to students.

"Well, here we are," Roger announced as they turned into a blind alley packed between two blocks, in the Small to Medium part of the neighbourhood. "Grand Pangolin Arms, luxury apartments."

"You... You live _here_?" Judy asked, utterly astonished. The building, which was in a passable condition at best, wasn't something she had expected when she decided to move in with her welloff cousin. Why, it was something she would probably be forced to have found for herself had it not been for Roger.

"Why, of course. It's cheap, uh, cozy, the heating usually works, there's one bathroom on each floor... And, it's close to my office!"

"But couldn't you afford something more..."

"...in my price range? Well, let me tell you... There's nothing. The city's dealing with a severe housing shortage. I had to look really hard to find even this place. Luckily, a friend of mine, who's now one of my clients, by the way, helped me a lot."

"Huh? So what happens to all the Bunnyburrow rabbits who move to Zootopia? Thousands of them come every year."

"Not just rabbits. All kinds of prey mammals. Unless they can afford a suburban house up north in the Meadowlands, they end up on the streets. Even homeless shelters can only take so many."

"Cheese and crackers, that's awful! How come no one knows about this?! Why does it never appear on the news?"

"I see you still swear like a saint. It's something mammals just don't talk about. Judy, you'll find that in this city, there's this collective mentality that, if you don't think about a problem, it'll go away. Anyway, welcome."

They stepped through the front door, immediately greeted by a staircase. The room was dark, with a single weak light illuminating the room, flies, mosquitoes, moths and other flying insects buzzing around it. Next to the stairs, a door stood, with D. Armadillo, written on a plate hung on it.

"That's our 'friendly' landlady's apartment," Roger explained. "Don't knock on the door unless it's urgent. That reminds me..." He reached into his pocket. "Here's your key. Don't lose it. Seriously, don't."

His cousin, noticing his gaze darkening, stared inquisitively. "Why? she asked.

"Our flat is 606, on the sixth floor. There's no elevator, so we'de best start walking, these stairs, Judes."

Judy made no comment on the fact that her cousin had dodged her question, focusing instead on the stairs that led upwards. They were clearly made for mammals from the Medium size cathegory, the smallest of which were about three times her size. It was times like these she really thanked the gods for the excellent jumping ability of the lagomorpha. That, and her training at the ZPA, allowed her to easily scale the steps.

Roger, however, struggled quite a bit. She remembered that he had always been less energetic, at least for a rabbit, but, like his stature, his fitness had decreased quite a bit since last she saw him. He trudged up the steps like he had just run a marathon. On the third floor, he asked that they take a breather.

"Woo!" he exclaimed, fanning his face with his forepaw "Times like these, I wish mammals could use sweat to regulate their heat or something."

"I'm not sure having to clean our fur every few hours would be worth it," Judy answered. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a second." He bent down, steadying his breathing. "I swear, these stairs are getting steeper."

Judy took a moment to look around. The stairs had led them straight to the third floor corridor, which stretched to the right, walls a dreary pale pink colour, ending with a window, which likely overlooked the back alley where Roger had parked his car. Doors lined the right wall, at surprisingly short intervals, which made the doe wonder how large the apartments really were.

After a short while, they continued their way upwards, finally reaching the sixth floor. It was much like the third one, except, Judy could swear, the walls were slightly paler. Roger led her to the sixth door, upon which, once upon a time perhaps, the number '606' had been written, but now, only something resembling 'oUo' remained. Roger unlocked the door, looked at his cousin briefly, smiling, before slowly, and dramatically, opening the door. "Home, sweet home!"

A small, quaint room stood before her. At six square metres, it might have been small for two medium-sized mammals, but to a couple of Small-class bunnies, who were also used to living in their crowded clan warrens, it was more than enough. Two beds stood against the walls, one on each side, with a window between them on the wall behind them. At the front of the room, a closet, maybe small for a larger mammal but just enough for rabbits, stood against the left wall, and a desk with a single lamp, a microwave oven and a radio that doubled as a digital clock upon it. Underneath the desk, a small fridge stood.

"Sure, it's not much, especially for someone of my standing," Roger commented. "The paint is starting to peel off the walls, there's this squeaky spot on the floorboards," hedemonstrated by taking a few steps, "not to mention you have to share the bathroom with an entire floor of strangers. But it's close to the city centre, cheap and it's not like I do anything other than sleeping here."

The sound of hooves upon the carpet in the corridor pulled their attention back outside the room. Two antelope, a kudu and a gemsbok, had just come up the stairs. Judy wasn't very familiar with the bovine sexual dimorphism, but she was sure both were male, judging from their attire. The kudu was carrying a cardboard box, filled with books, while the gemsbok had a six-pack of beer under his armpit.

"Hey, Roger," the kudu greeted casually.

"Evening," Roger greeted back, with a bit more enthusiasm. "Allow ,e to introduce my cousin, Judy. She'll be staying with me for a while."

"Bucky," the Kudu introduced himself.

"Pronk," the gemsbok said.

"Your next door neighbours."

"We're loud."

"Don't expect us to apologise for it."

With that, the two antelope entered their room, closing the door behind them.

"Pronk Oryx and Bucky Antlerson," Roger stated. "They're not very talkative... that is, when you're talking to them. They always butt in when you don't want them to though. They never told me, but I'm sure they study political science at St. Darwin University, here in Zootopia."

"What makes you think that?" Judy wondered.

Roger didn't answer. He simply counted down from three to zero with his fingers, before pointing at the wall separating their room from the antelopes'. Immediately, shouting started to emanate from the neighbouring room.

"NO! THE COMMONWEALTH'S FOREIGN POLICY IS ENTIRELY REASONABLE, CONSIDERING THEIR GEOPOLITICAL SITUATION!"

"WRONG! THEIR DISPLAYS OF MILITARY STRENGTH ARE COMPLETELY UNCALLED FOR, AND THEY DISHONOUR EVERY THIRD INTERNATIONAL AGREEMENT THEY ENTER!"

"OH, SHUT UP!"

"YOU SHUT UP!"

"Call it a hunch, but it might have something to do with the way thex debate political issues," Roger commented. "Back to the matter at hand. Your bed is the one on the left. The left side of the closet is yours. The bathroom is next to the staircase. The garbage is in the back alley. Now, let get you unpacked."

The sun was starting to set when they hung the last article of Judy's clothing in the closet. Roger warmed up a pre-prepared meal for them in the oven: two plastic bowls of vegetable risotto. He explained that he usually ate outside and had the food in his fridge only in case of an emergency. As they waited for their food to warm up, the buck asked his cousin to turn the radio on and tune in on Radio 1 for the evening news.

" _...-And from that day forward, any time a bunch of mammals are together in one place it's called a Zoo!-..._ "

"...- _But overall, porcupines are one of the best protected builds of all time-..._ "

" _...-They literally want you domesticated. They want to declaw you. Dehorn you! Defang you! And hot-blooded mammals need to realise that!-..._ "

"It's set to channel number one," Roger piped in, seeing that Judy was having trouble finding the station. "Just press one."

"... _-Hey, Bigbad Wolf!_ "

"Oh, it's still on the comercial break..."

" _What is it, Little Redwool, my sweet lamb chop?_ "

" _Did you know that Imeatation is celebrating it's tenth birthday this year?_ "

" _Really? Already? It seems like only yesterday when Imeatation Mutton first hit the shelves!_ "

" _Doesn't it? They've come a long way! They're planning to introduce a new product: prepared pies with imitations - or, should I say i-meat-tations - of flesh in them._ "

" _Well, what are we waiting for, my mutton? Let's go to the nearest grocery store!_ "

" _Try our Imeatation Beef Pie, our Imeatation Horse Pie and our Imeatation Rabbit Pie! Happy tenth anniversary, Imeatation!_ "

" _./)Redwool, dear, you are so sweet, so is a nice joint of meat, sausages are tops, so are steaks and chops, meat is what I like to eat!./)_ "

" _Imeatation from Fangwood Foodstuffs. Keeping the wolf fed and the lamb whole!_ "

"Ten years, huh?" Roger wondered. "To be honest, I thought it was older..."

"You know this... brand?" Judy asked. The mention of an imitation - or, rather, Imeatation - of rabbit meat sent a shiver down her spine, but she wouldn't deny that she was intrigued. Carnivores and omnivores usually ate poultry, seafood and, sometimes, bugs to satisfy their needs for animal protein. But most of these, save for perhaps ostrich meat, didn't contain satisfactory ammounts of vitamin B-12, found in the red meat of mammals. She had heard of the company that apparently found a way to artificially grow imitations of mammal meat, and, being the only one to successfully do so, Fangwood Foodstuffs gained an indisputed monopoly over the market.

"Oh, yes. Tried it once even. Friends of mine dared me to try eating rabbit flesh. I must say, I was a little interested what we tasted like."

"What was it like?"

"Let's call it interesting for now. Now shhh! It's starting."

" _This evening on Radio 1 Daily:_

" _Leodore Lionheart, the mayor of Zootopia City, announces that he won't be running for mayor next year, as he will be dedicating his attention to leading the United Zootopia League in this years parliamentary elections. However, he adds, he intends to make these last months in office count._

" _And, speaking of the elections, who are our runner-ups and how popular are they with the voters? Being Quinquember, the election day in Duedecimber is quite far off, but quite a few of the candidates believe that the early bird catches the worm._

" _In other news, meteorologists warn that the storm over the coastlines of Fenrirsheim and northern Bunnyburrow might worsten. Evacuation warnings have been given to several coastal towns, as well as an orange alert for the Fenrirsholm port. Experts are chalking the severe weather up to climate change.  
_

" _You are listening to the evening news on Radio 1 of Radio-Television Zootopia! I'm your host, Rudy Wideantler!_

" _Good evening, and welcome to-..._ "

In complete silence, without any warning, the broadcast stopped. The light in the room went out and the street lamp no longer illuminated the outside. Judy's ears perked up, surprised by the sudden lack of light. Curses were heard from the apartment next door.

"Ah, damn it!" Roger swore. "Don't worry, that happens from time to time, mostly in the evening."

"What happened?"

"Oh, just a power outage, city-wide. I swear, though, they're getting more and more frequent..."

"Are city-wide blavkouts that common here?" Judy asked, shocked by her cousin's revelation.

"Oh don't worry. Power'll be back in ten minutes, tops."


	2. Distrust, Corruption, Cowardice

**Chapter two, let's go. Some worldbuilding, to satisfy my sick pleasure of worldbuilding porn, but a lot of plot too.**

* * *

"Kindly return my friends' tickets, Gideon Grey!" Judy said firmly, with all the authority she could muster. But the sight of her, a tiny nine-year-old doe bunny in a policemammal's costume, only made the red fox laugh. He was twice her size, for crying out loud! He wasn't, in the least bit intimidated by her.

"Oh? And what if I don't wanna, bunny cop?" he asked, mockingly, smirking at her. "Ya see her Travis?" he said to his croney, a black-furred weasel. "Ya think copsey here is tryna harass me? I think she's gonna use force, the fascist." He turned back to her. "Well, you'd better be careful then, cutesy bunny. Cos I'ma a fox. And we used to eat lil' rabbits like you for breakfast. I think a taste for your meat's still here, in our dunnah."

"Uh, I think it's dee-enn-ayy, Gid," Travis corrected him.

Gideon sighed. "It is, Travis. But we're bullies. Our vocabulary is supposed to be devoid of all learned, complex words, instead replaced by vulgarisms and bastardisations. It adds to the intimidation factor."

"Oh, right."

Judy took a step forward while they were distracted. "If you don't return those tickets, I'll have to use force."

Gideon looked at her and laughed. "Really? How's this for force!" he shouted at her and pushed her. Being twice her size, he easily knocked her over, making her fall on her behind. "Oh, you gonna cry now? You scared, lil' bunny? Look at your nosey twitch, you are scared. You-..."

In one swift motion, the doe kicked upwards with all the power in her legs, hitting Gideon in his muzzle. The force made him stumble back, and left a bit of a bruise, but nothing beyond that. "Oh, you don't know when to quit, do ya." The foy eytended his claws, raising his right paw in the air. The bunny flinched. The paw came down on her. And-...

* * *

BEEP, BEEP, BEE-... click!

Judy awoke as soon as the alarm clock went off, a smile on her face. The dream hadn't been a pleasant one, but it reminded her of one thing: she didn't know when to quit. She touched her left cheek, where the scars from Gideon's slashing attack were, now obscured by her fur, but still tangible. Those scars were a promise. To get out there, and make the world a better place, no matter what others said.

"Ugh..." came a groan from the other bed in the tiny apartment. "What time is it?"

Judy, getting out of bed, cheerfully answered: "Half past six. Time to get up!"

As she headed for the closet to get dressed, another groan came out of her cousin's mouth. "Six-thirty? In the morning? No decent, law-abiding mammal should be awake at this hour."

Judy opened the closet, pulling out her uniform. The police blues, made specifically for her, as she was the first mammal below the Medium size class to become an officer at the ZPD, was freshly made, still smelling of the tailors'. "Except for policemammals who don't want to be late for work on their first day," she replied. "I have to be at the station by eight, and I need to get some breakfast first."

"Well, I don't have to get to my office until nine, so you'll have to eat on your own," her cousin grumbled. "There's a decent café at St. Romulus Station of the Metro. Our station is just down the street. Now let me sleep."

Judy, who had finished buttoning up her uniform, was putting on her protective vest. It wasn't much, just a light padding that eased the impact and could stop XS and some of the weaker S class firearms. "You've really let yourself got, Roger. What happened to the teenage clan Turner sprinting champion?"

"He moved to Zootopia City," he replied. "We'll see you after a yearly diet of coffee and doughnuts, officer Hopps."

The Hopps clansdoe, having put on her hat, took a look at herself in the mirror, smiling at herself. She liked how she looked in uniform. A proper policemammal of the ZPD. "And I also remember you were above stereotyping. With the training I had to go through, I'll be surprised to see any unathletic officers."

"Well, prepare to be surprised when you walk through the front door then." Roger wrapped himself in his blanket. "Now let me sleep."

Judy silently shook her head at her cousin's laziness as she rummaged through her suitcase, checking whether she'd forgotten something. All of her clothes were slready hung in the closet, but a few of her things were still in there. There was her phone charger, for her iCarrot of course. She regretted buying the thing; she'd never need half its functions and the battery barely lasted half a day. Then, there was the case containing her flute. She hadn't played the instrument since leaving for the academy, but who knows. At the bottom, she found a pink spray can she had nearly forgotten about.

A can of FoxAway Fox Repellent, a self defense product. FoxAway was a relatively new brand, less than a decade old, owned by the alike new company, Sandhide & Cooper Co, which not only sold non-lethal self defense products, but also provided security services. The doe remembered how this thing had got into her bag: after the incident with Gideon Grey, he had grown distrustful towards foxes. The Greys were the only ones in the area, so their bad example didn't do much to paint a positive picture of the species. When she was packing, to move to the capital, he insisted she take at least the repellent with her. 'Just in case,' his words were. Judy, reluctantly, agreed, knowing it would at least put his mind at ease.

Well, it was not like she needed to carry it with her, right? She could just leave it at the apartment. But, on the other hand, that was still pepper spray in that can. It should work on anyone, regardless on species. It could come in handy.

'Better play it safe,' the doe thought as she took the spray can with her.

Judy hopped down the stairs, skipping steps so as to get herself fully woken up, making sure to be quiet enough not to wake the rest of the block of flats up, and swiftly made it down to the ground level and into the street. The street lights were still lit, as the Sun was only just peeking over the horizon of Sahalin island, or rather its northern part, Outback Isle, Zootopia's 12th District. The streets were mostly empty, with only the few mammals that started work early or those that worked night shifts not enjoying the comfort of their beds.

Judy made her way down the stairs of the red brick entryway, matching the surrounding architecture, into the Libertytown Metro station. The platform, grey with a few stone benches and a map, was mostly empty, with each mammal upon it standing as far away from the others as possible, staring down at his or her phone. The walls, painted with a red brick pattern, were dirty. The machines selling tickets were located by the stairway. The screen hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the station signified that the next train heading towards the centre would be arriving in ten minutes.

Ahen the doe arrived at St. Romulus, it was fifteen minutes past seven; the train, despite it being early in the morning, had been ten minutes late, and she could only imagine what that was like during rush hour. All things considered, she still had enough time to catch breakfast, and then some. So, she took the time to take in the sights.

St. Romulus Station, located underneath the eponymous square, was the largest station of the Zootopia Metro: the six major lines crossed here. Its marble walls pristine, it was in complete contrast with Libertytown. The higher levels, above the train platforms, were packed with shops, diners and salons, like a shopping centre. There, judy spotted the café her cousin must have been talking about: Karla's. The female onager ( _equus hemionus_ ) who owned the place, who hailed from the Administrative Region of Inner Equestristan and whose real name was Khulan, happily greeted her first costumer of the day and served her freshly baked sweetrolls and a proper black coffee. "I may not get as many costumers as the Snarlbucks next door," she stated, "but at least I serve actual coffee."

Having thanked her for her hospitality and paid for the breakfast, Judy left the amicable Asiatic ass, taking the escalator leading to the surface. She rose into the building serving as the station's entrance, a pristine white neo-classical building, resembling an ancient temple, made of marble, matching the station bellow. The square dedicated to one of the four founders of the first Zootopia, twenty centuries ago. She still had some time to spend before heading to the police station, so she decided to take in the sights.

She approached the statue of St. Romulus. Romulus the Viking, or Rothmund Fenrirsöxi, as was his original Farenderlandic name, was a warrior of legend and represented Zootopia's military authority. The Novemist Church canonised him as the patron saint of warriors, soldiers and military leaders. The doe noticed a stone slab at the foot of the statue.

" _At the mouth of Greatwater, our settlement shall lie, a place for warriors and traders of all mammalkind to meet."_

 _-St. Romulus, 34 BS - 26 HD_

The quote written on the slab, while not entirely historically proven, was famously attributed to the wolf. Judy took a moment to admire the statue. This was one of four: four squares, each dedicated to one of the four founders, who had shared the shelter during that fateful blizzard. It filled Judy with pride that she would continue their dream, now, in a time when it had come further than any of them could have imagined.

But now, it was time for her to head to work. She still had half the square to cross to reach Precinct One's main station. The building, desert-sand-coloured, was round, with Doric pillars at the sides of the glass front door. It was tall, as it housed both the headquarters of Precinct One and the entire metropolitan police, yet dwarfed by the surrounding skyscrapers. Above the door, three words were written: Trust, Integrity and Bravery; the official motto of the ZPD.

Behind the front door, Judy found a massive reception. It would probably take a hundred elephants to fill it. The room was round, with a reception desk on the other side. Approaching the desk, Judy noticed a chubby cheetah chomping on his chow of Cheerios. Well, chubby would be putting it lightly, and the cheetah was anything but light. Judy remembered what her cousin had said before she left. He had been right. How this policemammal passed the yearly fitness inspections, she didn't know. But it didn't matter at the moment anyway.

"Um... hello." The doe said timidly, trying to get the cheetah's attention, but the policemammal didn't seem to notice, too engrossed in his food and with something he was writing behind the reception desk. "Ahem... Hello!" the young female repeated, this time louder.

This time, the cheetah heard, looking around, sloghtly confused as to where the voice had come from. The reception was mostly empty, and no one seemed to be talking to him. But a repeated greeting got him to lean over his desk a little to notice a little policedoe. "Ohh. Emm. Eff. Gee..." he let out. "Wow! Upstairs really did send us the MII. Well I'll be, you're even cuter than I expected!" he cheerfully proclaimed.

Judy sharply inhaled. "Yeah, I'd like to ask you not to call me 'cute'. I know you mean well, but for other mammals to call lagomorphs cute... It's come to mean 'good looking and incompetent'."

"Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry!" the round receptionist quickly apologised. He took out a thick notebook. "I'll be sure to note that down. There. As the front desk officer, I have to keep up with what not to call mammals." He stored the notebook back into a drawer under the desk. "Anyway, I'm Benjamin Clawhauser. Call me Ben. Or Benji. Or Hauser. You know, you can call me anything you want! I work this front desk!"

The bunny smiled widely, hopping on the desk to offer him her paw. "Judy Hopps, how do you do!"

The cheetah gently grasped her paw in his much larger one, made larger still by no shortage of fat. "Oh, it's a pleaure. Fascist!"

The doe recoiled slightly, taken aback by his sudden outbirst. "Excuse me?"

Benjamin smiled widely, tapping his pen against the open book in front of him. "A proponent of a statist, jingoistic totalitarian ideology. Seven horizontally." He quickly wrote the word into the appropriate spot in the crossword puzzle. "Anyway, back to what you're here for."

Clawhauser reached into one of his drawers, pulling out a stack of papers. "You need to fill in these forms. It's just standard stuff, for the guys Upstairs to get you into the computer system."

Judy took a look at the forms. She recognised them as the same documents she had filled in when applying for the Academy. "Don't you already have all this info? Aside from my place of residence, nothing's changed. And I've already sent the changes to the commissioner's office."

"It's just standard procedure, to make sure there are no discrepancies in the system," the older policemammal explained. "Anyway, it keeps the guys upstairs busy. Why, my cousin's a health inspector, and he-..."

"Hey, Benji!" a voice greeting the cheetah interrupted their conversation. Approaching them was a grey wolf ( _canis lupus_ ), in the male ZPD uniform. He looked young, with well-groomed fur, but he had to have been at least six years' Judy's senior. "Good morning!"

"Morning!" Benjamin greeted back. "And it's a good one, too! Look, we have a new recruit!"

The wolf eyed the bunny standing on the reception desk. He leaned in, smelling the air around her, which didn't do wonders for the doe's comfort. "Fresh meat for the grinder, eh?" He pondered. Then, he smiled, his tail waving ever so slightly. He offered her his paw. "I'm Wolford, Adolfus Fidelius Wolford. My friends call me Fido and my enemies Adolf!"

Judy shook his paw. "Judy Hopps, how do you do."

"I still remember my first day," Wolford stated. "But you've got a firm grip for someone your size. I'm sure you'll do fine. Just keep your head low until Upstairs fixes you up with a police account."

Judy nodded. "There's that word again. Upstairs?"

"It's what we call the commissioner's office, and the metropolitan police headquarters," Benjamin explained. "They're right above the Precinct."

"Hopps and I should head to monday roll call," Fidelius said. "Come along, rookie, to the pen."

As the bunny followed the wolf, walking away from the reception desk, Benjamin Clawhauser could only say one thing: "So young and wide-eyed. Such a shame she'll get eaten alive."

Walking into the briefing room, the 'pen', following the grey wolf, Judy was met by a scene she had been familiar with back in school; policemammals - much larger than her schoolmates, mind you - chatted away loudly, sitting in their chairs casually. Two mammals were armwrestling ardently, providing amusement to their colleagues around them. The doe had to admit, she was quite intimidated. But, as always, she took a deep breath and found her strength. She took a seat at the front, struggling to even get on it as it was meant for mammals many times her size. Looking to the right, a rhinoceros was sitting silently, ignoring the commotion caused by his colleagues.

"Hey there!" the bunny greeted him. "Judy Hopps, I'm new. Ready to make the world a better place?"

The rhino spared her a look, before rolling his eyes, mottering something about naïve rookies under his breath. Judy chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. It didn't work.

"Atten-hut!" a policemammal, a male hippopotamus, standing at attention in the front, shouted, gaining the attention of all the officers in the room.

In walked Him. The one. The legend. The Hero-Cop. The one who, with but the help of two private investigators, brought to light the Nighthowler Treason and put Dawn Bellwether behind bars, eight years ago. Chief of Precinct One, Cornelius Bogo, the massive cape buffalo ( _syncerus caffer_ ) bull. Judy's idol. The doe practically lit up when he entered, before remembering that this was now her boss, and that such behaviour was unbecomming of an officer of the law.

It seemed, however, that her new colleagues had a different idea of what was becomming of them. As their commanding officer entered, they hreeted him with a series of hoots and howls, pounding on their desks with their paws and hooves. The bull chief walked to his front desk and regarded his subordinates for a moment.

"Alright, settle down. Shut it!" he ordered and, immediately, the room fell silent, a single cough at the back suddenly the loudest noise. "I have three items on the docket today," Bogo stated, putting on a pair of glasses, which looked comically small on his massive head. "Firstly, we need to acknowledge the elephant in the room..." He paused dramatically, giving his mammals a look. Judy felt her heart skip a beat. "Francine, happy birthday!"

The room once again decended into howls and hoots as the officers congratulated their elephant cow (that's how you call a female elephant, children) colleague. Judy relaxed, clapping softly. For a moment, she had thought that the chief was talking about her, the 'MII' as Benjamin had called her.

"Yes, congratulations, Trunkaby. There will be refreshments at the end of the shift," the bull continued. "Now, number two: we have some new recruits joining Precinct One today, whom I should introduce. I'm not going to, because I don't care." That statement was followed by laughs from the officers, and Judy realised that this was simply the chiefs lovable attitude they'd come to know and love. And she will, too. Probably.

"And lastly, but not... leastly," Bogo silenced them again. "Fellow policemammals, this city has a proble, and it can be summed up in one word: organised crime." He paused. Judy wanted to point out that that was two words, but decided against it. "I was Upstairs this weekend, checking the crime statistics. And it turns out, we are already tailing fifteen crimes behind Precinct Two. At this rate, they'll be winning the Precinct of the Year Award. Again. And Nora Lionheart will be pushing the fact up my gob. Again." He pounded his hooved fists on his desks. "Will we let that lioness from Savannah Central, the mayor's third wife, a Catolic! win for a fourth consecutive year!?"

"NEIGH!" the gathered policemammals shouted in unison, making the doe's ears hurt.

"Very good," Bogo said. "This leads me to your assignments for the week. Grizzoli, Snarlov, there was a murder on 65 Revolution Road, District One. By that, of course, I mean that the murder happened on 45 Abyssinia Avenue, District Two. Get to it." The two officers, a grizzly bear ( _ursus arctos_ ) and a polar bear ( _ursus maritimus_ ) got up and the chief handed them a case file. The chief continued to call his officers, handing them cases. Robberies, vandalism, even assaults, it seemed even the Concrete Jungle, the heart of Zootopia, had it all. Some officers were sent on patrol, some to perform detective work, some simply to act as deterrents from crimes.

Eventually, the only policemammal was Judy. The chief finally called her name: "And lastly, our first bunny, officer Hopps." She perked up, awaiting her boss' orders. "Parking duty. Dismissed!"

The doe's ears dropped. Parking duty? This job was handled by the Zootopia Orderlies Brigade - an organisation separate from the police, tasked with the policing of traffic and parking, to keep roads and paths organised. They were also the most hated of all the public servants. She quickly got up, and ran up to Bogo, who was just about to leave. "Sir! Chief Bogo!"

The buffalo bull put his glasses on again and regarded his smallest officer. "You need something, Hopps?"

"Sir, you said that this city has a serious problem with crime. You sent all the others to deal with very serious cases, but you're sending me to do an orderly's job?"

"Sometimes, the officers of the ZPD assist the ZOB. Is there a point you're trying to make?"

"Well, sir, I can handle a tougher case. You might have forgot, but I was top of my class at the Academy."

"Most officers here were. And I don't care." The chief was scowling at her now.

"Sir..." the bunny pleaded. "I'm not just a token bunny."

"If you don't like it, you can take it up with Upstairs for all I care. Or, you can prove that by writing a hundred tickets a day. I don't care." Without letting her reply, the buffalo left the room.

Judy scowled in irritation, thumping with her right foot rappidly. "A hundred tickets... I'll write two hundred. Yeah! And before noon!"

* * *

It turned out that writing parking tickets could be pretty challenging, actually, more so than the doe had originally suspected. Locating wrongly parked vehicles or overdue parking meters was the first issue, but the bunny soon realised that she could hear the click and ring they made when the paid parking time ran out. After that, it was mostly smooth sailing, with the occasional Large or Extra-Large mammal's vehicle that provided a challenge in puttion the parking ticket under the wiper.

So she rode in the three-wheeled roofed motorbike (or whatever the vehicle was officially named - it was one of those motorised vehicles that didn't require a driver's licence) with an orange safety vest over her uniform, looking for the next parking violation. The ZOB guys were right - it was actually quite satisfying work.

When she had reached the ZOB office earlier, she was sure that Benjamin, who had sent her there, was pulling her tail. It was located in one the basement levels of Precinct One, between a broom closet and an out of order boiler room. To avoid another arson, the front desk officer had explained - far from the public eye. The inside was even more sketchy - dirty, damp, with only a few lights still working, with their light bulbs made in the previus millenium.

She was cheerfully greeted by head orderly Beavis Brown, a middle-aged, frail-looking beaver, who explained that the lack of cleanliness was due to the cleaning lady having received a parking ticket. This wouldn't be a problem, of course, if the sanitary inspector hadn't also received one. Then, the beaver explained that, while the ZPD sometimes assists the ZOB in their duties, they rarely assigned their officers to parking duty. "A few years ago, it was rookie hazing," Brown explained, "but it died out when Bogo took over Precinct One."

The head orderly's words were on Judy's mind as she continued her work, placing a parking ticket on a giraffe's car. Was this simple rookie hazing? Or, was it because she was the smallest mammal to join the force? Because she was a bunny? She had proven herself already, at the Academy! Did she need to prove herself again, before her boss?

Well, if that's what it took, that's what she'd do. As the hour of noontime drew near, the doe kept speeding up, writing more and more tickets as she got the hang of the task. By nine, she had written thirty tickets. By ten, eighty. As the clock struck eleven, she was already one hundred and thirty-five.

DONG-DONG-DONG-DONG...

The bell in the bell tower of a nearby church to the Nine rang, signifying that noon had come. Judy took a look at her ticket machine.

"Boom! Two hundred tickets! And exactly noon!" A nearby soft ring caused her to flinch. She slowly turned, noticing her that the parking meter near her had expired. The one next to her parked vehicle. Sighing, she wrote another ticket and placed it on the windshield. "201. Cracker's, that one's out of my pocket."

Getting over the fact that she had a penalty go pay, the doe proudly smiled. She couldn't wait to see the look on chief Bogo's face. Perhaps he'll take her more seriously now that-...

BEEP!

"Watch where you're going, pelt!"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you manners, flesh?"

"Oh, you're lucky I'm in a hurry, fox!"

Across the street from her, Judy noticed red fox ( _vulpes vulpes_ ), throwing a disdainful look to an urban pig ( _sus domesticus_ ), who had pulled out of a back alley. Evidently, the pig had nearly run the fox over, and some unkind words had been exchanged between the two. As the pig drove off, the fox continued on his way and Judy decided to follow him. After all, 'flesh' was a slur one wouldn't expect to hear in 2016. Pelt was bad, too, but the fox was easier to follow.

The doe closely observed the fox, trying to be as discreet as possible. He wore a green shirt of Pawaian design, loosely hanging over his belt and a purple-blue striped tie, brown pants and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Ha casually walked on and Judy followed him, still on the other side of the street. Then, he took a quick look around and the policedoe lowered her head so as not to be seen. The dog (there was no doubt that he was male) then sped into a building meant for Large and Extra-Large mammals.

'Jumbeaux's Gelateria', an ice cream parlor for the biggest of land mammals. Judy grew more and more suspicious. So, without a second thought, she followed him inside.

The place was built like any sweets parlor, not unlike the ones the doe had visited back in Bunnyburrow: inviting, loving, dare I write sweet, pink colours dominated the place. The largest of the land mammals, hippopotami, rhinoceros and elephants, sat around the tables, enjoying the sweet, cold delicacy. A line led towards the counter, behind which an African elephant stood, his eyes down towards the floor in front of the counter.

"Look, fox, I don't know how they do things in your part of town, but here, you check your predator privilege at the door, get me," the elephant said sternly. Judy slowly approached, sensing that the tension in the parlor was rising as the guests fixed their attention on the red fox in front of the counter.

"Mister Jumbeaux, I assure you, I don't want any trouble. I simply want to buy one of your Jumbeaux pops for my boy." The red fox pointed at an infant Rüppell's fox ( _vulpes_ _rueppellii_ ), placing his left paw on the kit's head, a plain golden ring shining upon the ring finger. He didn't look too similar to the adult, but, as far as Judy knew, he could be a mixed breed. Or adopted. Either way, the doe relaxed. It was just a father buying his son a treat. A big treat, but a treat nontheless.

"Can't buy him something more fitting to his size?" the elephant questioned.

"Well, it's his birthday," the red fox explained. "What would you say if I told you he wanted to be an elephant when he's older, hm?" The kit placed the hood that had been hanging over his back on his head, his little dress turning out to be an elephant costume. Compete with a small plastic trumpet in its trunk, it appeared, as the kit gave a happy toot. "Adorable, isn't it?"

Judy found it beyond adorable. An "Awwww!" escaped her lips without her even noticing.

"Look, buddy, the sign says 'We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone'."

"Ah, come on. It's just a simple business transaction. I give you the Zootopian Bucks, you give me the pop. We both walk out of this exchange as winners."

"Beat it, fox."

The fox scoffed. "Wow. This business really went to the gutter in the past ten years..."

"Got something to say, fox?!" the elephant threatened.

Judy decided it was time for her to intervene. "Excuse me, mister Jumbeaux?"

The owner gave her an annoyed look. "Get in line like everyone else, meter maid."

"Actually, I'm a police officer. Just one question. Where I come from, ice cream is scooped with this amazing tool called an ice cream scoop."

"What are you getting at, bunny?"

"Well, I'm not sure if scooping ice cream with trunks is exactly... sanitary. I mean, unless your costumers like your employee's mucus in their ice cream. I'm pretty sure it's a health code violation. I'd have to send a sanitary inspection your way, if that's the case. But I'm ready to let you off with a warning, if you get proper equipment and sell this nice dad a... Jumbeaux pop, was it?"

The elephant stared at her, caught off guard. In fact, the entire parlor was caught off guard. But in the end, the elephant relented, sighing: "Twenty bucks."

The red fox smiled. "Thank you very much officer-... Twenty bucks? I remember it costing fifteen!"

"Food prices are going up, fox. Take it or leave it."

"Ah, fine. Let me just get my-... ah, Divines, Ancestors and Spirits, I forgot my wallet," the fox cursed. He gave the kit an apologetic look. "Sorry, boyo. Looks like I messed up. Again."

Judy's heart broke at the dejected look on the Rüppell's fox kit's face. She couldn't bear it. There was only one thing to do. "Allow me."

Moments later, the trio was walking out of Jumbeaux's Gelateria, the giant Jumbeaux pop slung over the red fox's shoulder. The thing must have been quite heavy, but the doe noted that the fox carried it with no visible effort (despite it being around three times his body weight). "Thank you again, officer. So kind of you. How will I ever pay you back?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, my treat. You know, it just hurts to see mammals with such regressive attitudes. Let me just say that you're a great dad. And a real articulate fellow."

"Huh? 'Fellow'. Now there's a word I haven't heard in a while. Which is a shame, I quite like it. Well, anyway, allow me to introduce myself: Nick Wilde. With an 'e', but it's silent."

"And I am-..."

"Judith L. Hopps, the first bunny to be admitted into the ZPA and join the ZPD," Nick finished for her.

"... So, you know my name?"

"I've got my sources. In this case, the morning news. ZNN and ZBC had a very supportive view on you. Vulpine News, not so much. But that's Vulpine for you." He handed the pop to the kit and shook her smaller paw. "Well, thanks again. I hope to see you around, officer Hopps."

"Likewise, mister Wilde."

They walked their separate ways, the two vulpines down the street and the lagomorph back to her vehicle. Her shift wasn't over yet, and she hoped to write some more tickets by the end of it. Maybe reach four hundred. She returned to work, feeling much more positive about her situation. Sure, she hadn't done much to make the world a better place, but she had brightened her fellow mammal's day. And, perhaps, that's how things should be: better the world, one person at a time.

The time was nearing five o'clock in the afternoon when she found herself on the southern edge of District 1, on the border with District 2 - Savannah Central. The alley she was on was crowded as mammals gathered to see something. The curiosity getting the best of her, the doe, naturally, pushed her way through the crowd, stumbling into police tape, barring entry to civilians. Without being noticed, she walked under it.

Before her several police vehicles were parked over the road, acting as cover for equally many police officers. The officers had their attention on the building at the end of the alley: Lemmings Brothers' Bank. There were officers in armour, with T.U.S.K. written on their backs, standing on the sidelines. The Tactical Unit for Special Combat (under the old Zootopian spelling convention, 'combat' was spelled 'kombat'). It looked like they were playing rock-paper-scisors.

Taking cover behind one of the cars, Hopps noticed Higgins, Bogo's hippopotamus lieutenant, and next to him, a leopard, also wearing a lieutenant's uniform. The leopard was talking on a phone while Higgins glared at him.

"Hey, rookie!" Judy noticed Wolford approaching. "How are you?"

"What's going on here?"

"Oh, you won't believe!" the wolf excitedly said. They started walking towards Higgins. "We have a bank robbery in progress. A real one! None of that hacker pigeonshit, either. Some mammals with guns took barricaded themselves in and took the costumers and staff hostage."

Judy's eyes widened. A bank robbery? On her first day, too. But, something didn't seem right. "And why is everyone just standing around, doing nothing?"

"Welll, you see... Lemings Bank is located on the border between Concrete Jungle and Savannah Central, right?"

"Right..."

"We're not entirely sure under whose jurisdiction it falls. So, Higgins and Pardo over there have called the comissioner's office, to ask them."

"So, you're just waiting for their answer?"

"Well... Our union contracts guarantee us two uninterrupted coffee breaks and a lunch break every work day. Turns out, the lads Upstairs take those collectively. At five pm."

Judy was appalled. "We have a hostage situation over here and the entire comissioner's office is on a collective coffee break!?"

"Welcome to the ZPD, rookie," the wolf shrugged. "But don't worry, I 'm sure everything will work out."

"Right, I heard that," Judy could hear the leopard officer, Pardo, say into the phone. He then turned to Higgins. "The robbers want posicles." The wolf and the bunny decided to listen in on the two high-ranking officers.

Higgins gave the leopard an ironic smile. "I see. Popsicles. And perhaps some smoothies as well, hm?"

"Oh, spare me your sarcasm, Higgins. Just tell your officers to go buy some popsicles."

"Oh, and why mine? Why not yours?"

"So that the morons can use their talents to the fullest."

"Morons? Need I remind you that my officers are the top Academy graduates."

Their conversation was getting more and more heated. Judy couldn't believe that these were her superiors. They were squabbling like children!

"Good grades don't make you a good cop. Whoever thinks that is either a fool or someone with good grades."

"You're still mad that I scored higher on the Death Course than you?"

"If you're so good, Waldo Higgins, why don't you order your officers to storm the bank?"

"Oh, and have the robbery listed on Precinct One's list of crimes? Bring Two another step closer to Precinct of the Year. Fat chance, Leo Pardo."

The doe's ears shot up. Did she hear that correctly? They were really concerned with a contest than saving lives. When Bogo had mentioned the Precinct of the Year Award, she thought that it served as a motivator for the policemammals of the ZPD to do their best. But now, she was unsure what to think.

"Fat chance, indeed."

"What was that?!"

"Just find some popsicles before they start executing hostages! Just be glad they didn't demand a helicopter!"

'That's right,' Judy thought. There's still hostages in that building. 'There must be something I can do.'

"Where am I supposed to find a bunch of popsicles in the middle of spring around here?" Higgins asked.

As if on cue, a trolley was rolled up in front of the bank, completely unnoticed until then by the gathered officers. It was pushed by two. Judy recognised them immediately. Nick Wilde and his kit. What were they doing there? And why were they going towards the bank. The doe wanted to stop them, before noticing what was on the trolley: dozens of small, red popsicles. At first, she was confused, but she remembered the colour of the Jumbeaux pop she had purchased for them: red. It took some mental deduction, but she figured it out eventually: the fox had melted the pop down, in order to resell it. The absolute scoundrel. The way he carried himself, the kit obviously wasn't a kit either.

Nick sent the smaller fox away, before approaching the bank's door. Judy had, by then, snuck up closer to the building, so she could hear what he said: "Pawpsicles, only two bucks a piece! If it's melted, you get a 25% discount on your next purchase, which only applies on workdays between eight am and five pm, untill the end of the week!"

The door opened and the fox pushed the trolley in. Judy ran up to the bank, making sure that she wasn't seen and placed her ear on the door, trying to push her sense of hearing to its fullest. She could hear the conversation unfolding within.

"Alright, fox. Lob us the pops. Then get on the floor with them other lot." That voice was raspy and rugged, but not exactly low. Probably a mammal about Judy's size.

"'Lob us the pops'?" the fox's voice mocked "'Them other lot'? I must say, the vocabulary of gangsters has deteriorated in the past decades, but this really takes the cake. Whatever happened to gentlemammals in trench coats and fedoras, with Thompsons at their hip?"

"Don't mock us, you damn predator! You're not better than us?"

"Am I not? I'm not the one who stormed a bank, demanded everyone lay on the ground on pain of death and then got stuck on the wrong side of a siege. But what do I know? I'm just a predator, who needs to check his privilege."

"Don't mock me, flesh-eater! We are fighting the oppressor here. The predators make up only a tenth of the population, but represent more than half of the government, the capitalists and the intellectuals. Meanwhile, almost 98% of the poor are prey. But you'll see, the revolution is coming! Belwether was taken down, but she wasn't the last!"

"Um, Larry," another voice said, this one deeper and much easier to listen to. "You're spouting your political nonsense again. Can we just get back to business?"

"Shut up, Garry, this is important."

"To you, maybe. The rest of us are here just for the money. To be honest, if you weren't such a good planner, we would have left you long ago."

"What?! Are you crazy?! We are fighting the predator oppressor here! I saw it on TV! Barry, you're with me, right?"

"Larry, this is getting out of hand, just admit it. The whole thing's gone to shit. We should just cut our losses and surrender."

The apparent leader, Larry, cackled. "You can surrender, for all I care. And tell the cops I have another trick up my sleeve."

"Uh, Larry."

"Larry! Put down the detonator!"

"Tell them I'll blow this place sky high, with all the hostages, unless they get me... a chopper. Yeah, a chopper! That's how they do it in the movies, right?"

There was a silence after that and Judy covered her mouth. They had a bomb!? Was Larry just going to kill everyone in the bank, himself included. And what were the ZPD doing? She threw a quick look at the siege. Still nothing it seemed.

She started considering what she could to to resolve the situation, when the voices inside started talking again.

"What are you doing, fox?! Get your hand off the detonator!" Larry screamed.

"Larry, if that is your name," Nick softly said. "You know you won't get a helicopter. They'll never give it to you. Why bother? Let's blow ourselves up right now."

"What?! You're mad! You're gonna die!"

"We're all going to die, one day. Let's do it together."

"You can't be serious!"

"On three."

"You're bluffing, you've gotta be!"

"One."

"You're bluffing!"

"Two."

"... Oh shit, he's not bluffing! Help! HELP!"

Judy had to jump back, because moments later, three mammals ran out of the bank, with their paws up: a moose, a goat and a hare. The hare, apparently Larry, was screaming: "HELP! HE'S CRAZY! ARREST US, PUT US IN JAIL, JUST KEEP HIM AWAY!"

Moments later, Nick Wilde appeared on the front door, holding a remote detonator, a smug grin on his face. "It's called a hustle, sweetheart!" he yelled after the fleeing bank robbers.

Larry incredulously stared as he was having his paws cuffed by Wolford. "Divines... It was a bluff... It was a fucking bluff! Curse you, fox!"

* * *

About half an hour later, two foxes were standing next to a van with something that looked like a power metal album cover painted on its side, parked in an alleyway somewhere not far from the Lemmings Brothers' Bank. The red fox, Nick, was counting a thick stack of money, handing the smaller fox his share. It turned out that what Judy Hopps had assumed to be a kit Rüppel's fox was actually an adult male fennec fox ( _vulpes zerda_ ) - a common mistake one who wasn't familiar with these particular species would make.

"420, 440, 460, 480, 500 Zootopian Bucks for you, Finnick," Wilde concluded. "I really wasn't expecting that bank robbery, but all the better for us, eh? The director was very grateful. I don't think such a thing had ever happened to us back when we were still doing these."

"Yeah, yeah. It's really been ten years, then? Since we left street hustling behind?" the fennec fox, Finnick spoke. Despite his size, his voice was deeper than that of his vulpes vulpes friend.

"Indeed," Nick agreed. "We've come a long way since then. Still, it was nice."

"Hey, don't get all mushy on me, doggo!"

"Oh, shut up. Well, happy birthday again, doggo. See you Friday?"

"For sure," the fennec fox said, getting in the van.

"What, no kiss bye-bye for daddy?"

Finnick slowly turned towards him. "Kiss me and I'll bite your face off!"

Nick chuckled. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"No, you don't, Nicky. You probably wouldn't even if you tried," his friend replied, a slight tone of pitty in his voice. "Well, ciao!"

The van drove off, revealing to Nick a very angry looking policebunny. "Hello there!"

"You lied to me," Judy stated. "I stood up to you, and you lied to me. You liar!"

"Alright, three things," the fox started to list off. "Firstly, I'll tell you what I told those bank robbers: 'It's called a hustle, sweetheart.' Secondly: I never lie. I might omit the truth, let peaople make fals assumptions which I neglect to correct, etcetera. Today, I haven't said a single lie, down to the point of Finnick's birthday. Thirdly, and most importantly, I said: 'Hello there!' You're supposed to reply: 'General Kenobi!'" He off-pawedly waved her off. "Good day, officer."

But the doe would not be deterred. She immediately went off after him. "Alright, slick Nick, you're under arrest!"

The fox continued to walk, smirking. "Oh, really? Whatever for? Did they pass a new law that I wasn't aware of?"

"Well, maybe for selling undeclared goods, or vigilantism, maybe for leaving a crime scene without giving a statemet to the police, or how about willful endangerment of mammal life?"

"Alright, let's go through them one at a time. Undeclared goods. This was a one-time thing for old times sake, but if I must," he pulled out a document. "It's signed to Finnick, but we clearly do have a tax registry to the selling of frozen sweets, thank you very much. Secondly, according to the law, vigilantism is defined as the 'violent enforcement of the law without the resource of lawful procedure for the percieved criminal or the legal transparency of the person or persons performing the enforcement of the law'. Please don't lump me in with those masked freaks - the robbers were immediately handed over to the police, unharmed, if mentally scared, and I, myself was so legally transparent they all saw my face. Two down, two to go. I gave my statement to officer Wolford, nice guy, so I guess it didn't really take much time. And as for the endangerment of mammal life? I had the whole thing under control, and I think my lawyer could make the judge see it that way. He's a very good lawyer. Has some 'cousins' in the High Court." He gave her a smug look. "I think I should be free to go, don't you agree, Carrots?"

"You're going to want to refrain from calling me 'Carrots', sir?"

"Right, your clan name is Hops. Yur family must be beer brewers then? Not carrot farmers?"

"That's Hopps with a double 'p'. And carrots only make up thirty percent of our produce. Why am I arguing about my family business?!"

"Ancestors know, but do go on, oh farmdoe Judith L. Hopps of Bunnyburrow. That is where you're from, right?"

"Stop dodging the issue here!"

"Okay. What was the issue again?"

They got to a pedestrian crossing, where an older porcupine female was waiting for the light to turn green. "Oh, hey mister Wilde!" she greeted.

"Mrs Quillton, how are you? How are the boys, how's the husband?"

"Oh, good, thanks to you. I cannot thank you enough!"

"Oh, but you did. I provided a service, and you paid in the standard currency of this country. It's simple business."

"I'm talking to you, Wilde!" Hopps warned from behind them.

"Is the cop bothering you, mister Wilde?" Mrs Quillton asked.

"As a matter of fact... no. She's convinced that I've commited a crime. It's amusing."

"Okay, what is your problem!" the doe demanded, deciding that she didn't like his demeanour at all.

The light turned green and Nick silently bid farewell to the porcupine. "Where to start? How about a little story? Stop me if it sounds familiar. Naïve Bunnyburrow AZ resident with wide eyes, a big heart and a strong sense of purpose says to herself: 'Hey, look at me, I shall move to the capital city, where everyone lives to our country's ideals of Harmony, Freedom and Equality and sings the national anthem.' Well, whoopsie, we don't get along, in fact, every groop has at least one group they hate and at least one group that hates them, either by species, culture or creed; we aren't free, in fact, there's a stifling bureaucratic aparatus, which ironically isn't even the work of an oppressive government, but rather an incompetent one which doesn't have a clue what it's doing; and if you have enough 'cousins', as we call them, in high places, you can get away with anything, so that's a 'no' for equality before the law."

"That's-..."

"Don't interrupt, Fluffbutt, I'm not done. So, that Bunnyburrow doe's dream of being a policemammal in Zootopia City? Double whoopsie, she was just the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, to get the current government reelected, so they sent her to parking duty, to make absolutely sure she doesn't get hurt. As for whoopsie number threesie, even if they didn't and she were to be given actual police work to do... there wouldn't be any actual police work to do. Her workday would consist of eighty percent pointless paperwork and twenty percent making sure that her precinct wins Precinct of the Year Award."

He gave her a pointed look. "Now, I'll admit, a lot of that was conjecture, but I think I've hit the nail on the head with this one, didn't I?"

Judy stood there for a while - not sure where 'there' was, as she had not been paying attention to her surroundings - as the fox walked off towards a gate in a concrete wall, which encircled a gated community. "Wait!" She ran up to him. "No one talks to me that way, or tells me what I can or cannot be, especially not some clown-suited jerk wiseguy-wannabe vigilante-in-denial who never tried to be more than a street hustler."

"Clown-suited!?" the fox asked with feigned offense in his voice. "Oh, the gloves are off and the claws are out now."

Before either of them could continue, a buff-looking Eurasian lynx ( _lynx lynx_ ) wearing a crocodile leather jacket with what looked like a badge on his chest, approached them, coming from inside the gated community. "Excuse me, officer? Bobby Catmull, Happytown Neighbourhood Watch. Are you harassing one of our residents?"

"Don't worry, Whiskers, I've got this," Nick assured him.

"As you wish, mister Wilde."

Nick then squatted before the doe, so as to come down to her eye level. "Look, I'll give you one free piece of advice, Carrots. You want to make the world a better place? Get your cute fuzzy-wuzzy tail out of the ZPD."

Judy glared at him. "Don't. Call me. Cute."

The fox's smirk only grew wider. "But I didn't. I called your tail cute." He straightened up. "Well, I'll be off now." He started walking into the gated community.

"Just one question," Judy said. "Does your wife approve of what you do?"

Nick halted in his step, stiffening up completely. He slowly turned his head towards her, his smirk replaced with a glare.

"I think it's time for you to leave, officer Hopps," the neighbourhood watchmammal curtly stated.


	3. Many Meetings

**Happy π Day everyone! As is fitting for a day such as this, here's the third chapter.**

 **Before we start, here's something I just realised, about the Jumbeaux pop. That thing is about 3 times Nick's volume, I estimate. Ice cream's density varies (between 0,53kg/l and 0,90kg/l). Nick's density, as an antropomorphic mammal, would probably be similar to a human's (around 0,985kg/l). For simplicity's sake, let's round those numbers to 0,5kg/l and 1kg/l. That means the Jumbeaux pop weighs 1,5x as much as the red fox - that's the lowest estimate, considering the aproximations we've made. On his application form, he lists 80lb, or a little over 36kg (which is more than twice as much as red foxes irl), so that would be 54kg of ice cream. I have two questions. Firstly, how does that only cost 15$ in the film? And secondly, how can Nick carry that thing so easily? Hell, how can Finnick carry it? How did they even get that thing on the roof? To add to the sheer weight of the Pop, the way they carry it, the centre of mass is definitely not over their shoulder, so they'd get toppled over, even if they were super strong? But I guess you can't expect Hollywood to know how physics work anyway. Your thoughts?**

* * *

After her disastrously, depressingly disappointing Monday, officer Judy Hopps returned to the small, dingy apartment she shared with her cousin, reeking of sadness and shame. Roger Turner lent her an ear as she told him of her day, of being placed on parking duty, of the policemammals who shirked their duty of resolving a hostage situation and of an infuriating, smug red fox who had practically told her that the world would be better without her. That's what he meant by 'Get your fuzzy-wuzzy little tail out of the ZPD,' she had reasoned.

After an equally disappointing phone conversation with her parents (they called her every evening), who were elated that she was, in their words, 'a meter maid, not a real cop', then hearing her father joyfully cheer 'meeter maid' over and over, the young doe's mood was thoroughly soured. It was at that moment that Turner presented a solution: he was meeting some of his friends at a pub that friday, to celabrate a birthday, and suggested Judy tag along. Perhaps making friends would raise her spirits.

Judy agreed. And, after a week of nothing but parking duty, it would be good to just sit down and have a drink. She swore, the tedious monotony of the job was more tyring than anything the Academy had thrown at her.

And so it was, that she was standing there, on Concrete Jungle's border with the District 3, Canal District. Situated under a bridge crossing onto one of Canal District's artificial islands, next to a small square with a fountain and beset by quaint, cute houses, stood an old-timey building, designed to resemble the architecture of the high middle ages. While primarily built for Small and Middle-class mammals, it could potentialy take a few Large ones. Above the dark brown wooden door, a wooden sign hung, a tankard overflowing with beer carved into it and coloured, and its name under it: 'Gaston's Pub'

"Well, here we are, Judes," Roger announced. In his arms, he was holding a plate covered with a peice of cloth. He handed it to Judy as they approached the door.

"So, what's with this thing?" Judy asked as she accepted the object. She wasn't sure what was under the cloth, but it must have been food.

"Oh, it's just because of this joke Finn made on the last Fellowship meeting," her cousin answered. They were now at the door. Wooden, it was, dark brown and warm. "Now, shush."

He knocked on the door. Soon enough, a voice came from the inside: "Password?"

Roger cleared his throat, then sang. His voice was amateurish, but he had a quite good sense of pitch. "No one hosts like Gaston, no one boasts like Gaston, no one makes such incredible roasts as Gaston."

"Alright, come in."

The door opened, revealing a black-furred male boar ( _Sus scrofa_ ), buff, without the layer of fat others of his species usually wore over their muscles. He was dressed in red and had his head fur, which was grown much longer than the rest, tied into a stalion tail. His tusks were pristine white and healthy.

"Judy, this is Gaston. Gaston, Judy," Roger introduced.

"Judy Hopps, how do you do," the doe greeted, extending her paw to him.

"Oh, I know who you are," the boar said. "Roger told us all about you." He took her paw and kissed it insted of shaking it. It was a bit comical, not to mention awkward, what with him being many times Judy's size, so it was more him nuzzling his massive trunk to her arm. "The name's Gaston L'Sanglier. But of course you already know of me." Judy was about to mention that she hadn't heard of him before, but the boar continued as he led them inside: "But allow me to refresh your memory. Gaston. I own this pub. And no one bartends like Gaston!"

Roger chuckled. "Gaston is pretty much a real kind of male's male. The guy hunts the poultry and brews the beer he serves here!"

"No need for compliments, Roger," Gaston laughed. "But yes, I am the best!"

The pub was built much like any pub, tavern or inn. This one had a single central room filled with tables, round ones in the middle and rectangular ones lining the walls, all made of a darker type of wood. Across the room from the entrance, the bar stood, and behind it, shelves lined with bottles. On the left side of the bar, stairs led towards the upper level of the establishment, where the lodgings were located. On the right, a door with the word 'private' upon it was located, probably leading down to the cellar.

Unlike any other drinking establishment, however, this one was closed at the moment, and thus devoid of any costumers, despite it being Friday evening. No, today, Gaston's Pub was open only to a gathering of friends celebrating a birthday. Thus, a single round table in the middle, close to the bar had three mammals sitting around it.

The two bunnies approached the table and Roger exchanged an enthusiastic, friendly greeting with the three. Then, he intruduced: "Meet Judy, the cousin I told you about!

"Judes, allow me to introduce: Honey," he gestured to a female Eurasian badger ( _Meles meles_ ) of a slightly plump build, wearing a loose black T-shirt, which said: 'Losing is fun!' Her thick, round glasses reflected the screen of the phone she was staring into. Without looking up, she waved, absentmindedly greeting: "Hey. Honey Picking"

"Next, there's Piao," Roger continued, gesturing to the panda bear ( _Ailuropoda melanoleuca_ ) sitting to the badger's left. He was massive, dwarfing everything and everyone in the pub, and severely on the fat side - though not quite as much as Clawhauser, Judy mused. He wore a warm smile, and extended his absolutely massive paw. "Long Piao! A pleasure!"

"And that's Sylvia," the buck pointed to the final person, a female raccoon ( _Procyon lotor_ ). She was of a shorter stature, and rather slim for her species. She studied Judy with a sharp look in her eye,as if to penetrate the walls of her soul. She curtly extended her paw. "Greetings. Sylvia Cooper, businessmammal. Let's see if we can get along well, officer Hopps."

"Please, just Judy," the doe shook her paw, smiling herself. "I'm sure we will."

Roger took a look around. "Say, Gaston, where are the others?"

"Flash's out on a date tonight, so he won't be coming."

"Priscilla?"

"That's right."

"Well, good for him."

"Angela is on her way, she should be here any minute. Jack cancelled, said he had some important business to take care of. As for the dogs, I sent them to the cellar to get a new keg of beer."

"I offered to go, but it turns out I wouldn't fit," Piao laughed.

"Piao, you absolute unit!" Roger laughed along. Judy chuckled, too, though feeling a bit out of place. Assimilating into an already formed fellowship of friends was never easy. But her cousin had assured her they'd take her in. The doe took a deep breath. This would be good for her. In the least, she would, for a few hours, get to forget about the absolutely abysmal work week she had just endured.

"Hey, Roger's here!" a familiar voice came from behind the bar.

'Oh no," Judy thought.

Turning towards the cellar door, the doe noticed three canids, carrying beer kegs. The first one was Fidelius Wolford, the kind grey wolf ZPD officer, who had, during the week, tried to brighten her mood, somewhat, by telling her she wasn't the only one feeling stressed, that the monotony of the job was normal and that not all officers were more concerned with their wages rather than the citizens they were supposed to protect. It didn't work, but Judy appreciated the effort.

Next was the fennec fox the doe had originally confused for a Rüppell's fox kit - Finnick, she remembered his name was. Unlike the baby persona he had put on in that ice cream parlor, the little fox seemed to carry a constant scowl on his face. Or, perhaps that was because of the comparatively big keg of beer in his hands.

Last - the one who had spoken - was a red fox, the red fox of the most infuriating kind, Judy corrected, with an equally infuriating ridiculous grin plastered on his infuriating face. Nick Wilde. Smugness incarnate. Unlike his canid companions, he carried two kegs of beer, one on each shoulder, and looked infuriatingly smug doing it. The smug... bug.

"And he brought officer Fuzzy Fuzz with him," Finnick commented, cracking a smile. With that scowl on his face, though, it looked anything but friendly.

"Hey, Hopps!" Wolford greeted, looking genuinely happy to see her. "Good to see you."

The three set the kegs under the bar, setting one up into the tap, then joined the others at the table. Gaston went to pour everyone a drink, while the three canids exchanged their greetings with Roger. With fist bumps, slaps on the back and a friendly hug traded between them, Judy could not help but ask, a glare fixed upon the two foxes, particularly the red one:

"You're friends with these foyes, Roger?"

"Yes," the buck answered, confusion apparent in his voice. "I take it you've met them?"

"Not just met," Nick explained, matching Judy's glare with a smug stare directed at her. "She was gracious enough to pay for ice cream on Monday. Then she regretted that decision."

"Oh, I definitely regretted something," the doe angrily replied. "Trusting a no-good, clown-suited street hustler."

"Again, Monday was a one time thing, for Finnick. We don't do that anymore. Two, if you want your money back, all you have to do is ask. Three, what do you have against my attire?" He asked the others: "Does my attire strike any of you as resembling a clown's?"

He received collective nods in reply, except for Honey, who was still staring at her phone. "Well, you don't have a sense of _aesthetics,_ I see," the red fox grumbled.

"Wait just one moment," Roger interjected, raising his paws. _"You_ were the one who harassed _my_ client?" he asked Judy.

The doe whirled around to look at her cousin incredulously. " _You're_ his _lawyer_?"

" _You're_ his _cousin_?" Wilde said, in exageratedly feigned shock.

"Piao, what are you doing?" Wolford asked.

"Shh, I'm filming this," the panda whispered. "It's like something out of a telenovela!"

"Of course I'm his lawyer," Roger replied. "Who do you think got me my... our apartment?"

Judy was about to retort, but a knock on the pub's front door interrupted, breaking the tension that had built up - at least somewhat. All turned towards the entrance. "Well, here she is," Gaston stated, heading from the bar. "Fido, finish pouring us these beers, would you." The wolf raised his thumb, complying.

At the door, the boar went through the same routine he had gone through earlier with the two bunnies, while the group waited in silence, watching. Moments later, the proprietor opened up, allowing a tall, sleek figure, shrouded in a black coat with a hood covering her head, enter. The hood, itself, was tall, likely to cover up the mammal's horns. In her hand, she held a purse made of genuine fake leather.

"Hah-ha! There she is: the star of the evening!" Nick exclaimed.

The mammal removed her hood, and Judy gawked, for standing before her was _the_ Gazelle, the famous pop singer whose hit, 'Try Everything', had been the number one song in Zootopia for a few years now - and one of the things that kept the doe going when things seemed hopeless. But here she was, one of the greatest stars in the country, fraternising with... these mammals.

And her reply to Wilde's exclamation? "Fuck you, Wilde."

"Judy, allow me to introduce," Roger said, gesturing at the gazelle, pausing for a moment, "Angela Bienvenida Clara Dulcinea Esmeralda Florina Gisela Hortensia Isabel Josefina Katalin Laura Maria," he took another breath, "Nives Ofelia Patricia Ramona Susanna Teodora Uxía Victoria Xiana Yolanda Zaira del Sabansur. But you probably know her better by her stage name-..."

"You guys are friends with _the_ Gazelle!?" the doe questioned, completely flabbergasted by the fact that she was in the presence of her favourite singer."

The star eyed her for a moment. "You brought a fan, eh Roger?" She sighed. "I need a fucking drink."

"Coming right up!" Wolford declared, bringing tankards, filled to the brim with bock lager, setting them on the table. "Okay, Piao gets the big one, this one's for you, Angela,..." he distributed the drinks, by size, then raised his. "To the fellowship!"

"Cheers!" the others, save the doe, who was still mulling over the fact that these mammals were friends with Gazelle, answered, raising the tankards. They all took a swig, enjoyed the light bitterness for a bit, before swallowing the liquid.

"I must say, this batch is really good, Gaston," Piao praised.

The boar chuckled. "You know what they say: 'No one brews beer like Gaston!'"

"They don't say that. No one does," Sylvia commented.

"They should though," Wolford commented.

"Maybe they would if Gaston knew hownto advertise himself properly," the raccoon countered. "I mean, the 'no one *verb* like Gaston' could work really well, you just need to get it out there. I know a guy-..."

"Sylvia," Finnick warned. "No business talk on fellowship meetings."

"... Sorry. I got carried away."

"Again!" Nick laughed.

"Heh," Roger chuckled. "Speaking of business, look what my cousin brought to the city with her." He placed a pink bottle on the table, and Judy immediately recognised it. She realised with dread that it was a bottle of FoxAway Fox Repellent. She tensed up. How would the two foxes of the group react?

Just as she was about to say something, probably make a dumb excuse she'd regret later, Wilde gleefully picked the bottle up, laughing. "By the Nine! Finnick, Sylvia, you guys still make these!?"

"Wait, wha-..." Judy muttered.

"Yeah we do!" Finnick answered. "There's so big a market for these things, ya wouldn't believe it!"

"Holy wheat!" the doe exclaimed in realisation. "Yo two are Sandhide and Cooper!?" she declared, pointing at the fennec fox and raccoon.

"In person," Sylvia confirmed. "Founders and owners of Sandhide & Cooper Co. Security services and self defense products, we make them. 'Saving your hide at a bargain price!'"

The gathering laughed heartily, amused by the doe's surprise. "I guess you're wondering why a fox would sell anti-fox self defense products?" Roger mused.

"It was Nicky's idea," Finnick explained.

The red fox groaned. "It was my eighteenth birthday and I was drunk, you don't have an excuse, Big Guy." He sighed. "Basically, what I said was: 'With all this animosity towards vulpines, do you reckon, if we put pepper spray in a pink can, wrote fox repellent, would mammals such as bunnies, for instance, buy them, even if they were criminally overpriced?'"

"Yeah, it was much more slurred, and you didn't use big words," the fennec fox corrected. "But the answer was yes."

"And then you and Chinky Coon stole that idea and made a business out of it."

"It's not just FoxAway though," Sylvia added. "WolfAway, RatAway, RhinoAway, BatAway... Every species is hated by at least one other species and every species hates at least one other species. It's a wonder how no one thought of it before: take a regular self defense product, write something-Away on it and sell it at three times the price."

"Not just pepper spray," Finnick said. "Tazers, knives,... we even took an air horn and called it a 'deterrent'!" he laughed.

"And mammals buy them?" Judy questioned.

"Buy them?" Wolford piped in. "They're about to break the top 100 richest Zootopians!"

"Only by combined wealth, though, so you won't be seeing us on that list," Sylvia clarified. "We each own half the company, so it doesn't really count."

"Maybe you should get married," Honey commented, her eyes still on her phone. "They put couples with their combined wealth on that list."

The raccoon's ears shot up, as did her eyelids, staring at the bored, breezy badger with clear shock, and embarassment, in her eyes. The skin inside her ears had reddened visibly. "What!? No, no, no! Finnick and I are friends!"

"Even better," Honey said. "Lovers only get +40 opinion, and the bond can fade. Meanwhile, friends get +100, and it lasts forever."

Piao pat the badger on the shoulder as gently as he could, chuckling. "Honey, has anyone ever told you that you play too much Crusader Alphas II?"

"Yes. You. Just now. And I've only got 3504 hours on it."

"Yeah, Honey's obsession with the Breeding Simulator aside," Finnick said, "I'd ship it."

Miss Cooper gave him an appalled look of utter embarassment, as he had just run with what the badger had suggested. At that, he cracked up, cackling like a madmammal. "You should see your face, Sly!"

"It's not funny!"

"It is pretty hilarious," Gazelle commented, having downed her first beer. "Gaston! Another!"

"Very well," the swine said, taking her glass. "And let's start eating, eh? Roger said he'd bring something."

While all this was taking place, Judy was mulling over what she had learnt. Firstly, her cousin was not only friends with, but also the lawyer of the most insufferable mammal she had ever met. Secondly, they were friends with Gazelle, the mixed-breed gazelle pop singer. And lastly, another one of their friends, a _fox_ , was the co-founder of the company which produced the very anti-fox products her father had insisted she take with her. As one can imagine, that's a lot to take in, so the doe was, despite her excellent hearing, deaf to the conversation. Perhaps she had misjudged this Nick Wilde. Or, did she misjudge Roger? And Gazelle, for that matter? What was true any more?

These thoughts were banished from her head though, as a strange sound, something between a squak and a shreek, sounded above her. The self-preservation instincts of her distant ancestors kicked in, as she shrunk into her seat, covering her head. A fluttering of wings followed, then laughter. She looked up, to see a bird, perched atop one of Gazelle's horns.

It was a raptor ( _Falco domesticus_ ). A mammals best friend. Raptors were the domesticated cousins of the wild falcons. Over the millenia, through selective breeding, the mammals had created several breeds, corresponding to the functions they fulfilled: hunting, home security, or simple companionship. This particular one was clearly of a hunting breed, as it resembled the wild falcons. With black feathers on its back, white on the front with a slightly yellow throat and a black-tipped yellow beak, it was a beautiful creature, Judy had to admit, shaking off the initial fretfulness.

That was embarassing. She hoped no one had seen how startled she had been.

They had. "Wow, Carrots!" Nick laughed. "Don't tell me a tough police officer such as yourself is frightened by little old Fou! He wouldn't hurt a fly... unless Gaston told him to." The group laughed with him. The doe glared at the red fox. The frustration she felt before the raptor had entered resurfaced, reminding her of her previous train of thought. Had she misjudged him? No, it didn't seem so: he really was an insufferable piece of...

"Fou! Over here!" Gaston ushered the bird, offering his right hooved hand as a perch. The raptor immediately flew to him, landing on the hoof. The boar gave him some dried poultry. "Oh, yes, who's a daddy's boy? Yes, you are," he gushed, stroking the bird's feathers with his left hoof. "There's a good boy!" Then, he realised everyone was watching, many struggling to hold their laughs. He cleared his throat. "We were about to eat?"

Roger placed his plate on the table, at the centre. He uncovered it, revealing a pre-cooked pie, which had been heated in the microwave oven. "You guys now get to try out my rabbit meat!" he exclaimed, for what he had there was an Imeatation Rabbit Pie. "What do you think?"

After some initial jokes and laughs, the group dug in. Even the herbivores among them had a few bites, though they couldn't digest it. Judy was sceptical about it at first, eyeing the pie with mild curiosity. "Try everything, I guess," she said to herself.

"Ugh," Angela groaned. "I fucking hate that song..." She eyed her empty glass.

Once Judy swallowed the bite of rabbit pie - the experience was strange, chills had gone down her spine, but the taste wasn't bad - she turned to the pop singer. "What do you mean?"

"Oh no, I'm not nearly hammered enough to explain this to a fucking fan of fucking Gazelle of all fucking people," Angela declared,handing the glass to Gaston for a refill.

"Huh?"

"I'll give you the short explanation," Roger said. "Basically, she used to be in a band - a power metal band, of all things - and caught the ear of a talent agent. He convinced her to fly solo for a while, and she's been dissatisfied with her work ever since."

"Roger!" the singer warned, tapping her hooves on the table. "Why don't you just tell her my whole fucking life story!"

"Sorry."

The evening continued, the fellowship eating, drinking and conversing. The boar's home-brewed beer flowed and the talks became more animated, more care-free - the alcohol had fulfilled its function of breaking down social inhibitions. And so, the young doe decided to at least get to know her cousin's friends - even if some were insufferable.

Piao ran a restaurant, in Cataytown, which was a neighbourhood in the Canal District. Many of the immigrants from the warring Catayan states south of the Republic's border lived there. His father, Long Ping, had brought him to Zootopia when he was just a baby, having foreseen that the situation in the south would go south soon. Over the years, the father and son made it big in the Republic's capital; Piao now, in fact, owned a chain of Catayan restaurants, spread across the city.

Honey was antisocial. That much was evident from her behaviour. She mostly didn't participate in the conversations around her, and when she did, it was mostly to make snarky comments, or blurt out referrences nearly none of the fellowship seemed to understand. Judy had managed to learn, though, that the badger worked as an independednt contractor programmer, currently for the Rudolfine Traders.

Sylvia was very business-oriented, having to actively prevent herself from talking about business. It was something she was passionate about. So much so, that she was very shy when it came to anything else. Her relationship with the fennec fox, for instance. She insisted that they were partners, nothing more. To deflect further questioning, she went on to explain the goods and services their business provided. Other than self-defense products, they also provided security and body guard services, as well as home security - cameras, alarms, those sorts of things.

Gaston L'Sanglier was a somewhat boorish boar boasting immense confidence, whose every second sentence contained some form of self-praise. Through his boasts, Judy was able to discern that, aside from running a pub, he was also a member of a hunter's club, and ex-military, discharged with the highest honours due to injury: he hid his limp well, but the doe had noticed it.

And then, there were the three canids. Wolford, the doe had no problem with: aside from Clawhauser, he was the only one at the Precinct who was nice to her. But the other two... They were hard to read, and their charming personalities didn't make the bunny really motivated to read them either.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Honey, who had mostly stayed focused on her phone, spoke over the others: "Hey, could you turn on the news?"

"Okay." Gaston grabbed a remote and turned the TV above the bar on. It was already set to RTV Zootopia 1, which was currently broadcasting its evening news show, Echo of the Day. The news anchors, a male deer and a female wolf, had just done covering the newest developments in the Australian civil war.

" _Now onto domestic news,"_ the wolf said. _"After receiving hundreds of complaints over parking tickets in the past week, it seems Zootopia City Hall is considering making the parking in the city free of charge."_

" _Hundreds of mammals contested the validity of their parking tickets, some stating that they went only a few seconds overdue when a meter maid dashed to their cars to penalise them,"_ the deer continued. _"Some who offered their statement even claimed that they were on their way to their car when the parking meter ran out, and moments later, the meter maid was there as well."_

" _It is unclear who this orderly is, but the descriptions all match, meaning that all the hundreds of mammals might be talking about the same person,"_ the wolf concluded.

"Hah!" Nick laughed. "I take back what I said, Carrots! It seems you're already making the world a better place! One parking ticket at a time!"

The group laughed, causing the doe to scowl at them. The fox had, over the evening, mocked her at every oportunity, and she was getting close to her limit. Yet, she sucked it up again, just as she always had, when those around her had mocked her for her ambitious dream. "Hey, lay off her, will you," Roger, at least, came to her side. "She was just doing her job."

"Alright, guys, explain this to me like I'm a libertarian," Nick, having ceased his laughter, said, his arms up to get the others to calm.

"Nick, you _are_ a libertarian," Wolford warned.

"The fact that I'm a fox doesn't automatically make me a libertarian, Fido."

"Your foxhood has nothing to do with it."

"Back to my question. We already pay about half of what we make to the government. Does the city really need us to pay for the parking as well? Whether we pay or not, they'll still be twenty trillion bucks in debt."

"Twenty-five," Sylvia corrected.

"Right."

In the background, the news continued.

" _On the topic of the Zootopia Orderlies Brigade, the former Chief Orderly, Amurius Riverdale, was found guilty today, after a year-long trial."_

" _Riverdale was accused of receiving bribes to erase penalty points from people's driver's licences. It is estimated that he made nearly a million bucks during his seven years in office. He was sentenced to ten years of incarceration, which he will be serving weekends* in the Pound Penitentiary, as wellas a hefty fine."_

" _The city government is still deciding on the next Chief Orderly. In an interview today, mayor Lionheart stated that it is not final yet, but he believes Scabba Rattigan, Riverdale's old secretary who had brought her boss's crimes to light, the best successor."_

" _In-..."_

In an instant flash, the room went dark as another blackout struck the city. The fellowship's discussion broke to a halt, the sudden loss of light surprising them. The surprise, however, didn't last long, as it was soon replaced by groans of annoyance. "That's the third time this week," Sylvia commented. "They're getting more and more frequent."

"Fido," the boar called out to the wolf. "I'll start up the backup generator. I could use your night vision, to guide me."

"Sure, let's go."

The two went down to the basement and, soon after, the lights went back on. The television couldn't find a signal - Radio-Television Zootopia, too, was caught in the blackout, but the studio probably didn't have a backup power source. But the mammals gathered in the pub were paying no mind to the TV; their ears were fixated on distant shouts, howls and gunshots, coming from outside. In the distance, sirens wailed, both police vehicles and ambulance rolling out almost immediately when the lights went out.

Then, just as L'Sanglier and Wolford got back up, there were strikes upon the door, until it was broken down violently. Twelve figures poured in. Young platypodes, dressed only in tank tops and shorts. They were armed, with assault rifles, strips of bullets hanging over their shoulders and particularly nasty looks plastered on their faces. One, the biggest among them - likely their leader - stepped forward.

"GAAAH! YOU DIE NOW!" he screamed.

"Get down!" Judy yelled, hugging the ground.

Piao flipped their table, just as a hail of bullets started to rain upon them. Wolford and Gaston jumped behind the bar, while the others took cover behind the thick table - luckily, it could withstand the fire from weapons built for Small-class mammals - but not for long. They would need to move eventually.

"WAHAHAHAHA!" a platypus laughed. "KILL, KILL, KILL!"

Judy assessed the situation. It looked bad. A gang of thugs had broken in, armed with fully-automatic weaponry - only the military and T.U.S.K. had legal access to those - and, without rhime or reason, opened fire. They weren't here for their belongings, and it didn't seem like they were after their lives specifically. This was a random act of violence, directed at no one in particular but anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way.

The doe weighed her situation carefully. She could call the police, but it might take a while for them to get here, perhaps too long. Besides, it seemed Honey was already calling them. Judy still had her FoxAway, as well. Basically, it was a can of pepper spray, right? Overpriced, sure, but pepper spray still. The closest thing she had to a weapon. The precinct hadn't even issued her a sidearm yet: she wasn't in the system yet, even after a week. Meanwhile, the twelve maniacal platypodes had assault rifles. But, maybe there'd be a window of oportunity, when the perps had to reload?

The hail of bullets stopped and Judith L. Hopps decided to take her chances. She stood up and leaped out of cover...

Only to be grabbed by the ears and pulled back behind the table, a shot nearly grazing her as the platypodes reopened fire. "Not the ears, Nick!" she heard Roger say. She turned to her... saviour, apparently. He had a cold, hard look on his face.

"Do you have a deathwish, officer Carrots?" he asked calmly.

"I was trying to do my job!" she answered. "Protect and serve!"

"Your job? You are off duty right now. You don't have the proper equipment and even if you did, what could you do? Besides, Honey has already called the police."

"They're on their way," the badger confirmed.

"But they won't make it in time!" the doe argued. "This table wont last forever! We have to do something!"

The fox nodded. "That, I agree with. Gaston!" he called to the boar. "I'll exercise my right to defend myself now, if that's okay with you!"

The boar rose up from behind the bar, utilising a break in the platypodes rain of fire. He was wielding a hunting rifle, a big one at that. "Sure!" he said, then fired, forcing the assailants to scurry for cover. "You all have my permission"

Having got the permission from the private property owner, the gathered fellows reached for their belts. As it turned out, they were all armed, with handguns of varrying shapes and sizes, from a massive, bear-sized Desert Eagle Piao had concealed under his arm to a tiny, foldable mini-revolver Roger pulled out of his pocket. Even Gazele, it seemed, carried a handgun in her purse.

Nick Wilde cocked his revolver - a seven-shot, it seemed, and of a design Judy didn't recognise - and grinned at the doe. "Don't worry," he said. "I have the concealed carry licence on my person. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

And suddenly, the doe felt even more unarmed. All the others had guns - and they were legally allowed to use them to defend themselves. Meanwhile, she, an officer of the law, was left to cower behind cover. Once more, she felt like a failure. Like all the other times over the week hadn't been enough!

"Woo-hoo! You guys messed with the wrong fellowship!" Piao tauned.

"Fin, could you, please, conserve your ammunition? It's not so cheap you know?" Sylvia could be heard scolding the fennec fox.

"Wow, you missed a shot, Gaston! You're the worst hunter in the whole world!"

"Shut up, Fido!"

They traded quips as the fight for their lives continued. The police still hadn't arrived. As time passed, the assailants showed no signs of letting up and the fellowship were starting to run out of amunition. As nick loaded the last seven bullets, one by one, into his revolver, Judy noticed that the table was about to give in. They would need to move. Eyeing her can of FoxAway, she got an idea.

"Herd them together!" she shouted over the gunfire. Those closest to her tried their best to do so; the platypodes hadn't scattered that much initially, and they certainly didn't employ any sort of tactics, just spraying fire from their cover.

Nick gave the doe a look. "Are you planning what I think you're planning, officer Carrots?"

"How good a shot are you?" she asked instead of answering. She didn't even notice he had called her 'Carrots', what with the adrenalin flowing through her veins.

"As good as I am handsome."

"We can work with that. When there's a window of oportunity, I'll throw this can the assailants' way. I want you to shoot it."

The fox pondered this. "It's not a perfect plan, but it's a plan."

The fire continued. "HAHAHAHAHA!" one platypus laughed. suddenly, his gun jammed. "Ha?" he punched it a bit, not noticing that most of the others were reloading. That's when the dog and the doe made their move.

"Pull!" Nick shouted, and Judy threw the can at their assailants. The can flew in an arc across the pub with a bit of a spin, then began to fall to the platypodes' position. Most of the platypodes were up at this point, ready to reopen fire, when they noticed the object hurdling towards them "Pew," the red fox uttered, pulling the trigger. The shot hit the target right on the edge, cracking it open and causing it to spin violently. The liquid and fumes flew in every direction, hitting at least seven of the assailants and surprising others.

"GAAAAAH!" they cried in pain as the capsicin caused searing pain in their eyes, on their beaks and skin. Those that weren't hit felt the effects of the fumes, causing confusion amongst them. The confusion the fellowship had needed.

"Take them down!" Wolfort shouted, vaulting the bar and running towards the door. The others soon followed suit and, with little effort, the platypodes were soon incapacitated, sat upon by the massive Piao. The fellowship could finally breathe easily. Their lives were no longer in danger.

Roger started laughing. "Ha! Almost didn't survive that one!" The others, even Judy joined in. "You've got that right," Piao agreed. "I was terrified!" The laughter crecendoed. They were so relieved! Judy found herself feeling a bit more connected to these people. It seemed the life-threatening situation had endeared them to her. Perhaps even Wilde.

"Well," Gazele declared. "I'd best get the fuck out of here before the cops get here. The press cant find out I was here."

"You can use the back way," Gaston told her.

Were it someone else, Judy would have demanded they stay and give their statement to the police. But, frankly, she felt that the others would be good enough. Besides, the celebrity would probably bring too much attention to the situation. The doe took a look around. Wolford and Wilde were looking at an assault rifle one of the platypodes had dropped.

"What are you thinking, Fido?"

"Not sure, Wilde. This here, this is military-grade weaponry. Where would a dozen vandal platypodes get their webs on them?"

"I'd bet my money on the black market. It isn't that hard to get things like this these days."

"You think so? Well, I'm not sure. A gang of platypuses gets their hands on fully-automatics, only to randomly shoot up a pub? It smells fishy. I think I'll look into it."

"That's 'platypodes'."

* * *

* 'Weekend jail' is literally something we have in my country.


End file.
